Hearts on Fire
by Renae319
Summary: A set of remains are found after Brennan has been AWOL for 2 weeks. Technically set after post 100th but that's really irrevelent in light of the TRUE PAST of B&B. I think this might qualify for AU.


A/N:

So I know that I really really need to update Skeleton Me, but finals came and so did writers block. (Curse you, Writer's block! *shakes fist at sky*) I'll figure out soon how that will end but in the meantime, this fic came to me in a dream a la Twilight. No joke, including the strange name for a character. So I hope it was a productive dream. Enjoy :)

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_Two weeks…two weeks…where the hell would she have gone off to for two weeks? Without a call, a note, or any kind of announcement…how could she do this me? She KNOWS how this affects me, how it affects the team._

As my dear readers can guess, Brennan has now been missing for two weeks. As soon as The pair had closed a case and had their customary Tai and Tequila, she had bid him goodbye, shut her apartment door and was never seen or heard from since. After the first couple of days, Booth was only annoyed that she wasn't answering his calls or texts. By the end of the week when she wasn't answering the pounding on her apartment door and he had talked to Max (who hadn't heard from her either), he was worried. He was agitated, blaming himself, blaming her, and now the lab was worried. By the end of the second week, everyone at the Jeffersonian was on their toes as well. Dr. Brennan was NEVER gone. If she was ill, Booth had to all but nail her to her bed to keep her from coming in and even then she would work via tele-conference.

Two weeks into her disappearance, a set of badly decomposed remains arrived at the Jeffersonian. Since Brennan was AWOL, Clark did the examination. They were those of a woman in her early thirties. Hodgins had found long, brown hair among the particulates. The skull was too badly damaged for anyone besides Dr. Brennan to piece together, so a facial reconstruction and photo op by Angela would be impossible. It would have to wait for Dr. B's return, whenever that would be. Booth arrived very agitated (an almost constant state for him at this point in the 2 week period) for the briefing.

"Booth," Angela stopped him before he mounted the platform, "I'm just telling you now, that whoever is up there, we just have to be strong and find the bastard that did this." Her voice cracked slightly. _Not Good_. Giving her a wary glance, he swiped in and strode up to the remains, determined to keep his cool.

"So, Doc…Who do we have here?"

"Before I move on, Agent Booth, I must say. A scientist does not prove something to be true. They only disprove theories. We also do not go into an experiment or, say, an identification attempting to prove them to be someone."

"What are you getting at here, guys?"

"Fact one: This woman died approximately two weeks ago, given decomp levels and animal and insect activity." Booth nodded, he knew why they were so skittish today. His heart shot up in his throat as he maintained his cool.

"Fact two: She had medium length brown hair. Fact three: she was 175 cm tall, or five foot nine. Fact four: She was in her early to mid thirties." Booth clenched his jaw.

"Fact five: She has many signs of domestic abuse. These injuries are a decade or more old, except this scar here on her right arm which may or may not

be a gunshot wound." Booth held back his anger as he remembered her getting shot while they chased down that suspect. Afterwards he confided in her about his father's drinking problems. It seemed so long ago...

"Okay, Clark…how soon can you ID her? Doesn't Angela usually have a fancy face sketch for me for put out to the press?"

"Ah, but fact six: Cause of death was massive head trauma. The victim was bludgeoned repeatedly in the face causing massive bone and brain damage. Only Dr. Brennan has the skills to put together a skull smashed to bits like this." Booth cringed at his words and tried not to picture Bones…

"Okay, okay, I get the picture. I'm sure under the present…circumstances…it wouldn't hurt you to try, okay Clark?"

He nodded his assent and muttered something about doing his best to piece it together.

"Got anything else to tell me? Something more I can work with?"

"Ummm…"Clark scanned over the body with his magnifying glass and paused at the pelvic region. "Oh!" he exclaimed. A small smile appeared. "The pelvis has scaring over the pubic bone here. She's given birth! There's no way this is Dr. Brennan on the table!"

Completely abandoning their revered scientific method, the rest of the squints and Angela breathed sighs of relief and smiled and congratulated Clark and made to do so to Booth.

"Stop it, people! This means nothing still!" Booth stormed out of the lab leaving very confused squints in his wake.

"Wait a minute," Hodgins finally broke the silence and addressed Brennan's alleged best friend. "Dr. B's got a kid?"

"You got me," She shrugged, just as confused as the rest.

* * *

After his grand exit, Booth wasn't sure where he meant to go when he slammed the car door shut and sped off. It's always a dangerous thing to start driving when one doesn't know their destination. One may end up just going home a short way, or drive aimless circles around the city. Sometimes when Booth was really agitated he would find himself driving all the way to Vermont before he knew where he was headed. Tonight, however, he ended at her apartment.

He had been by at least once a day this past week, hoping she'd be in. Tonight was no different, except now there was a body on his mind. He knocked rather loudly…he called her name…no answer. He heaved a great sigh and stuck his hand in his pockets, clenching a fist around his keys. _I suppose by now this is an emergency_. He pulled out the key to her place he had snuck a copy of years ago and not necessarily with her consent.

Booth pushed open the door, not sure of what he'd find inside. He flipped the switch, not caring about fingerprints. _**If** this is a crime scene, **If**, Seeley. Don't go jumping to conclusions_. Light filled the apartment, revealing nothing out of the ordinary. Her answering machine blinked, full of new messages from him and the other squints. Not a throw pillow was out of place. The only un-Bones like thing here was a fine coat of dust covered everything. It looked as though she hadn't been around in…oh…two weeks.

Her bed was made; dishes put away…fridge was cleared of her usual bounty of organic fruits and veggies and other perishables. Odd. Her toothbrush was missing from its usual place in the holder. Booth didn't dare peek in her drawers to see if clothes were missing. That seemed too invasive. It felt too invasive this week to have filed a missing persons report, but if she ever showed up, at least she'd know he cared.

_Well, at least I didn't find any blood_. At that thought, he instinctively tapped the nearest wood surface and sank down heavily in the couch, kneading his throbbing temples. Things had been on the edge with her for the past month or so, ever since they had lied to Sweets and she'd broken his heart again. He had mourned the loss of her open heart for too long, and it seemed as though she was always going to keep it closed. He had said he'd move on. _Bullshit_. Even she should have known it's bullshit. He loved her too much to let go. _Goddammit. Where are you Bones?_

As it sometimes happens with sleep, Booth's world went black and he dozed for several hours on her couch, but when the rattle of the door handled stirred him awake, it felt like only seconds had passed.

2:44 am the digital clock on the table seared red in the dark.

Booth shot up from the couch, full sniper on alert. He drew his side arm and trained it at the door as it swung open. All he saw in the darkness was the tall, thin profile of a person with a piece of luggage.

"Good God Booth! What the hell are you doing?" Brennan exclaimed, dropping her suitcase.

"Bones," He secured his weapon and let fall on the couch before he strode over to her and wrapped her up in his arms.

She was surprised, to be sure, but she really didn't care at the moment why he was here. She kicked the front door shut with her foot from behind and put her arms around his waist in return. They both forgot the turmoil and anxiety of the past two weeks and reveled in each other's sent and feel. They were both relieved; until…

"Bones, where the hell have you been?" Booth angrily pulled her away from him and held her squarely at arms length by the shoulders. The moment was broken and fire shot into her icy blue eyes. She released her tender hold on him angrily pushed his hands away.

"Where the hell have I been? What the hell are you doing here? How did you break in?"

"You haven't been answering anyone's calls for weeks, Bones! I came in here with a key to make sure you weren't lying on the floor dead." His voice cracked at that omission.

"I had to get away," she admitted quietly. "I had vacation time stored up, why shouldn't I use it. I have as much right as anybody else."

"Of course you do, Bones…but you didn't tell m—anyone that you were gone. And you didn't return calls—"

"Surely the world doesn't stop if I'm not around for two weeks, Booth."

_My world stops…_

"A body came into the lab today." He bluntly stated.

"A body comes in everyday, Booth. You are a homicide detective after all."

"_Facts_, Bones! Dead two weeks, old domestic abuse scars, a fucking three year old gunshot wound where you were hit! Same height, same hair! Had a kid…"

She stared back at him in disbelief, at a loss for words. No wonder he was here.

"I filed a missing person's report last week. Bones…I was so scared," he place a hand on her shoulder. She looked away and shrugged off his hand, trying to process the information.

"So they know now…"

"No, well, maybe…They're very intuitive. I certainly didn't leave the lab very gracefully today."

Silence enveloped the room and Brennan slowly strode over to the couch where Booth had been sleeping. She pulled close his still warm pillow and breathed in the faint trace of his cologne. She was the first to break the silence.

"He would have been seven last week."

"And that's why you took off."

She nodded quietly.

"I had thought that in the back of my mind. But I figured you might have answered my calls…wanting company you know. He was my son too."

"I'm sorry Booth. I honestly forgot my phone at home. I drove up to the cabin in Vermont. I had hoped you might find me there and we could have…remembered together."

"Did you visit it?"

"Yes."

"Did it look any…different?" Their conversation faltered. He sank down next to her and they remembered together.

Seven years, seven months and one week ago Booth and Brennan had found out that she was pregnant. It was unplanned and a total surprise, especially so soon after the beautiful accident named Parker. Things had still been tense with Rebecca, but the pair was thrilled to welcome an addition to the Booth family. Rushed nuptials and 17 hours of labor later they welcomed little Antonio to the world. They called him Anton for short. Parker loved his little brother, Booth and Brennan loved each other and their new family. Life, laughter, and happiness filled their lives. When Anton was 9 months old the whole family went up to the Vermont cabin for a weekend. The couple together kissed him and put little Anton to bed that night, and he never woke up. Coroner dubbed it SIDS and they buried little Anton and all their happy dreams.

Brennan closed off from everyone, even from Booth and Parker. She got herself her own apartment in a new city, got a new job, determined to leave the past behind. What rotten or blessed luck she had when Booth 'mysteriously' was transferred to D.C. and assigned to work with her. Per agreement, they pretended for 6 years that this past didn't exist between them and that they were "just partners". They tried to date other people, but as Sweet's had pointed out, it was impossible to ignore what they had.

Each year on the anniversary of his birth or death, whichever was most effecting, sometimes both, they would get together with a bottle of alcohol, laugh, cry, oftentimes ending in unsatisfying sex. They both desperately clung to the other in their grief and loneliness.

"Can't believe you'd mourn him this year with out me," Booth stated.

"Should I get the gin?" Brennan offered halfheartedly.

"No, Bones, I mean...it's the only time we get together anymore."

"We're always together Booth; you made sure we worked together every day…"

"I know Bones; I mean together like we were then. It's the only time we talk about him; that one time a year that I get close to that memory of how happy we were. Now even in private we keep up this pretense of just partners; this stupid Booth and Bones routine. On that day, we're simply Tempe and Seeley trying to figure out how the hell we became parents. We're held together only by love. We openly acknowledge that we share flesh and blood and that we have a son."

"_Had_, Booth. It's all in the past. The flesh has long since decayed away."

"You of all people should know, Tempe, that the bones are still there." He held her gaze.

Brennan gave him her look, trying to decide if he's talking in metaphors. But she could only hold that severe look on her thin, cracking walls for so long. Her exterior broke and heavy, mournful sobs wracked her body. Booth pulls her into his arms which she didn't fight. Once again she's the mother grieving the loss of her child, not the uptight, rigid doctor who closed her heart up.

"I miss you, Tempe. I miss what we were. I wake up every morning thinking about you, and Parker and Anton and how much I love you all. I feel like we're doing wrong by us and the boys by staying separated like this."

"Anton is dead, _Seeley_," Brennan snarled his name as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away from him.

"Don't you even try to lie to me, Tempe. I saw you crying at his baptism. You have some little spark of hope, a spark of love for him still. You went up to Vermont for Christ sake! Tell me you still don't love him or believe that he's somewhere. Tell me you don't believe that when he died he just blinked out of existence. I know you better than that. When you love someone, they're never really gone if you keep their memory alive."

"Of course I still love him, Seeley. I still love you too," She managed to pull away and escaped to the other side of the room. Her shaky hands pull out a long chained locket she wore under her clothes everyday. She opened it up and flashed it in Booth's direction. Inside was a small picture of Booth, Brennan, Anton and Parker. Attached to the chain was her wedding ring. "I can't let go, Booth. That's why I went up there. It's so lonely at night, no matter how many years pass. I still have nightmares of Anton and Parker screaming and screaming and I can't help them. When I wake up, you're not there either. And I'm just alone and scared." Tears streamed down her face and the sobs returned. She was mortified to have finally shattered so hard in front of Booth after all these years of being a 'cold fish' to him.

But Booth simply, without anger or judgment towards her, simply held her close once again; breathing into each other's ears. Shivers and goosebumps shot down their bodies, grief replaced with arousal and hope at the admission of love on her part. Unwittingly they swayed to the faint music one of her neighbors decided to play at 3:30 am. Booth slowly kissed her temple down to her ear to find her special spot, just behind her earlobe. Brennan's knees buckled and she leaned into his strong arms before abruptly pulling away.

"No, Booth," She pulled away her tear-stained face and shaking away the haze of arousal. "I don't want any more mourning sex. I always just feel worse afterwards, when you're gone; and having to go back to being a cold fish…"

"So let's not have mourning sex," Booth pulled her back to him and looked deeply into her eyes. "Let's have 'I'm still madly in love with you sex' followed by 'fresh start sex', fall asleep and then before we go to work have 'good MORNing sex'. Let's _make love_ again." He pressed his forehead to hers.

She laughed at his goofy smile with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to be a cold fish anymore, Seeley."

Taking his softly-spoken given name as the go-ahead, he reached for the clasp of her necklace and carefully extracted her wedding ring off her chain and holds it close to their faces.

"Tempe, if I put this back on, I don't want it to come off ever again."

"Even when I'm elbow-deep in soupified remains?" She asked saucily.

"Double glove it."

Brennan bit down on her bottom lip in thought. "Where's yours?"

Booth reached under his wrinkled shirt and pulled off his dog tags. "I would still be wearing it, but you almost bit my head off that first day at the scene when you saw it. I wanted to live to see a reconciliation." He gave her that classic crooked cocky grin. She loved it so much, and he knew it.

"So…is that what this is?" She tested the waters they were about to enter.

"Is it Tempe? It's certainly not what I had intended when I showed up here. I came here getting ready to declare the place a crime scene when you showed up," Forgetting for a moment he quietly added: "Thank God," and he kissed her forehead.

"I don't want you to go, Seeley," She whispered, clutching his lapels. "Ever again. Please come home to me." A single, final tear squeezed its way out.

"I never left you, sweetheart."

They exchange rings and whispered promises, once again man and wife. They made their way to their bedroom for the first time in seven years. In the heat of the moment, Booth reached over to where he knows her stash of "prophylactics" to be (it always made her laugh to hear him say that in his 'squinty' voice ever since she used that word in place of more common words for a condom), but his hand was stopped by her small one. He looked to her in disbelief.

"Are you sure, Bones?"

Never the vocal one in the relationship, she simply nodded with the biggest smile he had seen on her since the day Anton was born.

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A/N: I find Anton to be a strange nick-name for Antonio. Why didn't they just call him Tony? But that's what the baby was named in my dream and nothing else would fit the vision. Reviews are lovely, but no pressure. I love most seeing where y'all are from reading my stories, especially


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